The Casualty

Cursive

The night has fallen down the staircase

And I, for one, have felt its bruises

Equilbrium; inebriated

Our social graces have been displaced



As we sink deeper into the drink

The volume increases....

Night time resurrects fault lines

Silent wars -- rumble somewhere below

The surfaces verses...

The surfaces verses...

The shoe is dropped, lungs explode

Shards of words of a shattered voice

And there's still a hole where the phone was thrown



Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah...

Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah...



The moon is rising, a revolution

I close my eyes and the room is spinning

You're screaming:



"Sweetie, the moon has raped me --

It has left its seeds like a tomb inside me

So I must learn to abort these feelings

This romance is bleeding..."



Night time triggers the land mines

Bedroom wounds -- lovers like brigadiers

Marching two by two...

Marching two by two...

A soldier's down

Flood gates burst

I've said some things I wish you'd never heard

Like, "There's still a hole where the phone was thrown."

It's growing as we speak

And it's sucking us both in

A vacuum of sorrow to swallow up the day